


Morpheus

by m0usielous1e



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bittersweet, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dark, Dream Sex, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mind Control, Mutual Non-Con, Slow Burn, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 20:36:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5219954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m0usielous1e/pseuds/m0usielous1e
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vivid dreams give way to a very real nightmare and set the Witnesses on a desperate quest to find the one responsible while trying to deal with the fallout.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morpheus

**Author's Note:**

> I like this story. I am also disturbed by it. There are also elements that I think I could have handled better. Nevertheless, here it is.

The dreams started differently but always ended the same. Ichabod could be at work in the Archives, chopping firewood at the cabin, stalking Abraham across a smoke-filled battlefield, or even playing video games on Abbie’s large screen television. It was so mundane, like an intermission between dreams, that what followed was always a shock. A different woman each time, Katrina, Betsy, Miss Zoe, even poor Mary, but never the Lieutenant, thank goodness for that. They wore a variety of costumes. Katrina in her wedding dress, Betsy in her spy garb, Miss Zoe as Betsy, Mary in La Llorona form, but it mattered little for by the end of it they would be naked and writhing beneath him, whispering his name in-between breathy moans. Ichabod really wished it would stop, it was disconcerting enough that his body had decided that he needed a second puberty, but worse, that it should do so in the Lieutenant’s house. Thank goodness Ichabod had elected to do the laundry.

The dream this night began on the battlefield, though one of re-enactors, not real soldiers for his paramour on this occasion was Miss Caroline. She called him into her tent, promising a gift of a brand new coat. Ichabod tried to resist, protesting that he already had many fine coats from which to choose, and why, he was wearing one right now. Then he looked down at himself to find his burial great coat, busted and filthy from his centuries-long dirt-nap—to quote Miss Jenny—and not the newer machine-washable one he was sure he had on a second ago. Miss Caroline had giggled at that, then reached for his shoulders to help him, she needed measurements, she said, and so it began.

It was all really tame, as a schoolboy might expect his first experience of the carnal act to be but the sensations felt real. Miss Caroline pressed him into the floor and straddled his hips. He tried to fend her off but his limbs felt heavy and after two weeks he was quite sure that there was nothing he could do to stop her once this part started. He was forced to lie and endure and wonder, not the first time, if this was not some scheme of that wicked Pandora, determined to drive him mad. But to what end? The only consequences thus far were the messed sheets in the morning and a mild exhaustion. She had even set another creature in his and the Lieutenant’s path, one that had put a nasty bruise on Miss Jenny’s side and tried to kill the Lieutenant, but nothing more. So what was this? Some larger scheme that only time would expose?

Ichabod supposed that he should have told the Lieutenant about the dreams once he suspected something odd but…well, how could he? There were some things that friends, no matter how close, could not share. After all, it was not as if it was entirely unpleasant. He and Miss Zoe had not progressed this far in their relationship and Miss Caroline was a fair, if unfortunate doppelganger.

And then his cell rang.

Miss Caroline did not notice. She merely reached up to sweep her hair over her shoulder, driving him deeper within her with each roll of her hips. The phone rang again and the dream diffused into nothing, though oddly, the sensation remained. Then Ichabod opened his eyes and his blood ran cold.

The Lieutenant’s eyes were glazed over, dull, her face expressionless. Her dark skin shone in the moonlight coming through the windows with a thin layer of sweat formed of their exertions, her hair and nightgown, half undone, was drenched. She did not appear to have noticed yet Ichabod’s wakefulness or shock, and it was that alone that swept all desire from his body.

“Miss Mills!” he cried, sitting up. She put her hands up around his neck but did not stop. He grasped her hands and shook her. “Miss Mills! Oh…you must stop this! Leftenant! We cannot! Leftenant! _Abbie_!”

That last one seemed to do the trick. She rolled off of him and flopped down onto the bed, nearly lifeless. Ichabod pulled his pants up—horrified to find that his desire had not abated in the slightest—and her nightgown down, then shook her. Her eyes were closed now but he could hear her breathing, steady and slow, as if she were in deepest sleep. His eyes went wider still. This was a somnambulant incident? But he had never known the Lieutenant to sleepwalk before.

When a few more attempts at rousing her failed to do anything more than get her to groan and half-heartedly push his hands away, Ichabod stopped to consider his options. There was really only one: wake the Lieutenant, explain the situation and see if they could figure out together how to make it stop. But that was a fool’s solution, if Ichabod thought about it properly, and one that could only lead to an irreparable fracture in their friendship. No, he would have to go for the second option: clean up, get the Lieutenant back to her own bed and try to solve this problem on his own while she was none the wiser.

He slipped off the bed and walked around it to slip one arm under the Lieutenant’s legs and another behind her back and lifted. She rolled into his arms without waking. He carried her out of his room and back into hers and set her down in her bed, then pulled the covers up over her to her throat. Her lips were swollen slightly but there were otherwise no visible marks on her dark flesh, thank goodness, and, to be perfectly honest, Ichabod did not have the will to touch her further to check. He waited a beat to ensure that she was still deeply asleep and then slipped out of the room to tend to his own.

He had been having this dream for two weeks. It varied slightly, yes, but the end was always the same. Had all those times been dreams? Or had he really spent the past two weeks with the Lieutenant? Good God….

He made quick work of cleaning up the room, replacing the sheets and putting the used ones in the wash. Then he remembered why he had awoken, his phone had rang, but when he checked it he could not recognise the number. A wrong number at three in the morning? How fortuitous. There were no other calls or messages save the last missive he had received from Miss Zoe before he went off to sleep, _“Good night, sweet prince/and angels sing thee to thy rest…”_ He guiltily shut the phone and sat down on the bed to gather himself.

Two weeks ago, what had happened? The day was ordinary. The Lieutenant had left for work before he awoke—a travesty of this second life he had yet to manage to correct—and he had spent the day in the Archives sorting and unpacking. Then Miss Jenny had arrived with an artefact she had needed to store…but no, neither he nor the Lieutenant had handled it. What of the people that they had interacted with? The other customers in the line at Starbucks, the barista, Miss Zoe, and then no one until Miss Jenny arrived at the Archives with young Master Corbin, and finally the Lieutenant. Had he bumped into or brushed against anyone?

He looked around the room. It still smelled of…he got up and opened a window, welcoming the cool night air. What of smells? The Lieutenant wore perfumes but they were often mild and lightly applied. Miss Jenny did not wear any. Master Corbin wore cologne, but again, mild, an aftershave really that Miss Jenny had complimented once. Miss Zoe…yes, she wore perfumes, multiple scents that she interchanged according to the day of the week and the one that day was familiar. But Ichabod was sure that he was on the right course.

The moon was full above and the street was deserted below. There was no one else awake except him. He had to get out of this house…preferably until he could find the cause of this malady. There was simply no way he could stay here now that he knew of it because if it happened again, well, he was no longer blameless. Not that he did not feel the guilt now.

He turned away from the window, snatched up a duffel bag and began stuffing clothes into it. Twenty minutes later, he slipped out of the house, locked it and started walking into town. Maybe he could spend the night in the tunnels. At least he could chain himself down just in case he suffered from the same somnambulism.

 

Abbie knew that something was wrong with her, but quite frankly since she presented no real consistent symptoms, it did not affect her work in any discernible way and, apart from Crane’s sudden and inexplicable desire to spend long hours researching Pandora in the Archives without her, well, what did it matter?

Okay, so the Crane bit bothered her quite a lot. Nearly a month ago—a whole month!—she had come home from work to an empty house. She did not think this odd at first. She usually left before Crane did in the mornings and apart from the occasional early return in the evenings, she would see him at the Archives or about the town during the day. These days too, he had taken to spending the afternoons with Zoe so that he would not be back at the house before nightfall. But when midnight hit and he still had not returned she had called him up.

It had taken three tries for him to answer the phone and when he did his voice had sounded off. Oh, he had quite assured her that all was well and that he was chasing a line of research and could not leave it for later or the next day but don’t worry, Lieutenant, I shall make every effort to attend to you in the morrow. Abbie had dismissed it as Crane being Crane and overdoing it again, but when he did not, in fact, visit her all the next day, she began to worry.

She had charged into the Archives with her gun out and righteous indignation in her gut, ready to shoot whoever or whatever had been holding her fellow Witness hostage only to find the man himself fast asleep on a cot in the corner. He awoke with a start at her arrival and then, strangest of all, claimed to suddenly recall an appointment and hastily left. And so it had continued right up until that morning when Abbie was forced to relay a message through Jenny that there was a case that might require him.

Oh but that was the sorest point of all. One day a week earlier she had walked into the Archives and found her sister and Crane engaged in what appeared to be a devastating conversation. Her sister had been loud and furious, her face dark and eyes bright in her anger. She looked like a tigress about to pounce on some hapless animal that had dared to stroll into her path. And Crane? Well, he had been cowering, actually ducking away from Jenny’s fury, keeping his face averted and wet gaze to the floor, not even looking up again when Abbie demanded to know what the hell was going on.

Of course they had not told her a thing, and after all that had been going on, Abbie decided that she could wait until they were ready to tell her. As long as Crane was not dying or anything, she was sure it was not worth the trouble of trying to drag it out of them. But that was when her fellow Witness’ avoidance tactics seemed to become a brick wall over which she could send messages and maybe exchange a phone call or two but never actually see or touch unless it was through Jenny. Was it something Abbie had done?

Abbie studied her sister now from her perch on Jenny’s little couch. Her sister had called her with a message from Crane and though Abbie really had it up to here with that noise, she decided to play along. She had already checked the Archives anyway and Crane was not there. She had had no choice but to drive over to Jenny’s trailer after that. 

Jenny had greeted her with a warm hug and that odd look that she had been giving her since that day in the Archives, as if she were searching for something on Abbie’s face that she herself could not see, and then invited her in. Abbie took the couch and Jenny announced that she was making omelettes. Jenny started humming as she cooked, wearing a t-shirt that Abbie was very sure she had seen on Joe Corbin before and opened her mini-fridge to get the eggs and that was when it hit her.

Abbie had not been feeling well for the past two days but had chalked it up to exhaustion, with work, Witnessing, goddamn Crane, and dismissed it. This morning she had been light-headed but that was nothing that a little coffee could not fix. But now, as Jenny pulled a slab of fried fish out of her icebox and left it on the counter, Abbie was hit was an intense wave of nausea that had her up and running for the bathroom.

“Abbie!” Jenny called out.

Abbie ignored her, already bringing up her coffee and some of last night’s dinner. She had liked that burger, a specialty one at a restaurant that Danny had more or less tricked her into joining him at. And the fries, they were delicious, oh, and the wine. Dessert was even better, chocolate cake drizzled in caramel and topped with whipped cream. Danny was going all out to get her back, even managed to secure Abbie a promise to do it again next time, though he had joked that he would need his bonus to come through if she was going to put away all that. All for naught now.

When Abbie could do no more she dropped to her knees before the bowl and tried to get her shaking under control. Her strength had fled her limbs but for the moment, she was marginally better, her head clear. Jenny, hovering at the door, asked, “Abs…Abbie, are you okay?”

Abbie nodded. Jenny continued as if she did not hear her, “I should get you to the doctor. I’ll call Joe, maybe he will know what’s wrong….”

Abbie was too weak to protest and when she thought she was strong enough to stand, she realised that she could still smell the goddamn fish and now it was all over her. Goodness she needed air. She walked out of the trailer and did not stop until she was at the treeline and taking in great, deep breaths of fresh air. Goodness, just the thought of the fish was making her ill.

Moments later, Jenny caught up with her. “Abbie?” she asked.

Abbie turned to her sister and read the horror in her expression. Jenny looked grey, her eyes dark and haunted, with a slight crease in her brow and her lips were pressed together in a thin, grim line. Jenny looked far too concerned for Abbie’s health. Combined with the look that she had been giving her, Abbie was convinced now that something was seriously wrong. Abbie folded her arms and asked, “Jenny…what’s going on?”

An hour later they were seated in the doctor’s office listening to a diagnosis that made absolutely no fucking sense.

“Okay, yep, you’re pregnant. I would need to do some more tests to tell you how far along, but given your symptoms I would say roughly about six or seven weeks. Oh that would give you about until Christmas to prepare for the little one and yes, from personal experience it does suck to have those two dates joined.” He smiled warmly at Abbie, trying to appear as excited about the news as she should be but Abbie was too busy freaking the hell out.

It did not make sense the first time Abbie had heard it and it made even less sense now the third time. Jenny had not explained anything but insisted on taking Abbie directly to the hospital in case she had come down with something modern science could fix. Modern science could indeed fix this but Abbie was still trying to get over the part where it had happened in the first place. When? And how?

She turned to her sister, not trying to hide her horror, and saw something that was even more terrifying. Jenny had replaced her dismay with defeat and resignation. As Abbie watched, her sister closed her eyes, turned her face to the ceiling and exhaled slowly. Abbie felt a cold shiver run up her spine.

She turned to the doctor, who was still nattering on about “pre-natal vitamins” and scheduling an ultrasound and said, “Thank you, for telling me. Um, could you give my sister and me a moment?”

The doctor blinked, surprised, but then nodded and said, “Sure, I’ll go check on another patient. You can get dressed.” Then he turned and left.

Abbie waited until the door was shut and turned to Jenny and said, “Okay, I’m pretty sure I had the same Sex Ed classes you did and heard the same information. I haven’t been with anyone in months that…that I know of.” She paused, fear making her nauseous again, swallowed a gulp of air and said, “M-Moloch is dead, Jenny…what is going on?” She felt a pit of horror open in her stomach as she realised the implications of what this could be. She had held Katrina Crane as the woman very nearly died, as the woman tried to talk Abbie into killing her to prevent the demon within from doing the job for her. Was this the same thing?

Jenny grasped Abbie’s hands and said, “It’s not a demon.”

Abbie did not feel a wave of relief at this news. If anything it just made it all the more confusing. Still, she held her sister’s solemn gaze as Jenny continued, “Abbie, I have to tell you something. It’s about Crane.”

 

When the cabin door burst open and the Lieutenant came charging in with Miss Jenny hot on her trail, Ichabod had been half-expecting the Lieutenant to shoot him first and then ask questions later. He had been on pins and needles since Miss Jenny had texted him earlier with the diagnosis and the fact that, at last, the Lieutenant was in on the secret. It was bad enough that he had firmly decided that she was never to be told and sworn both Miss Jenny and Master Corbin to secrecy, what was worse was that even now, more than a month later, he was no closer to the cause.

Master Corbin rose from the table to stand with Ichabod though his gaze was on Miss Jenny. She gave him a slight headshake and two furtive shakes of her hands but then the Lieutenant said, “Joe, I’m going to need to talk to Crane alone.”

Master Corbin did not have to be told twice. He hurried over to Miss Jenny and the two of them quickly left the cabin. Ichabod watched them go and then finally turned his gaze to the Lieutenant.

Having not seen her for about a month, Ichabod was pleased to find that the Lieutenant looked no worse for wear. She was always a tiny thing and still was, but there were circles forming under eyes and a hint of exhaustion in her face. She was angry too, the narrowed gaze said as much, but there was also concern and the first words out of her mouth were, “Are you okay?”

Ichabod let out a laugh, which he cut off midway, sure of his madness, and said, “I believe that I should be asking that of you.”

The Lieutenant folded her arms and said, “I’m fine. A little nauseous, mostly angry. Why the hell didn’t you tell me? Were you ever planning on tell—no, wait, don’t answer that. Of course not. What the hell, Crane?”

Ichabod swallowed, then turned away from her and started pacing. He began, “I do not know ‘what the hell’, Miss Mills. I thought…I thought that I was merely experiencing a resurgence of an adolescent affliction. Then one night I was brought out of a dream by a ‘wrong number’ call to find…well, by then it had already been a fortnight.”

“Fortnight,” said the Lieutenant, arms still folded, gaze distant, considering.

“Yes,” said Ichabod. He stopped pacing and made to go to her, then remembered himself and said, “You must understand, I did not mean to keep this from you forever. I had hoped to find the cause before that and then, once we had vanquished whatever this new evil was, I would explain what had occurred between us. Unfortunately, despite weeks of effort I have found nothing.”

The Lieutenant nodded at this and then asked, “And, just to put this out there, what if you never found the cause? What if something happened and you never found out what is behind this, were you never going to say a word?”

His face warmed, his shame clear for her to see, still he soldiered on and said, “Miss Jenny had actually given me a deadline…which, I admit, has passed…yesterday.”

“You were never going to tell me,” said the Lieutenant. It was not a question.

Ichabod took one step towards her. Her distant gaze refocused on him and suddenly he remembered the way she looked that night when he awoke to find her above him. He blinked and the image disappeared. He swallowed and said, “I saw no need for it. You were unconscious of the fact, as was I. Of course…this was not without purpose. I believed at the time that the best course of action was to remove myself from the equation to prevent you coming to harm…I’m told that I was too late.”

They both looked down at her stomach and she rolled her eyes and said, “Yeah, well.” She stopped, cleared her throat and then continued, “Way too late actually. Had already happened by the time you woke up to it. You were saying that this might have been caused by something and you don’t know what yet?”

“I’m afraid not. Lieutenant…Miss Mills, when you say that-that it had already happened…I must ask this, do you know if your…somnambulism has happened since?” asked Ichabod. A new thought had just come to him, a terrible, horrible thought.

The Lieutenant looked puzzled, brows furrowed deeply as she considered his question. He continued anyway, “I fear that whatever is responsible for this may not have been after either of us, merely using us for something else.”

Her eyes went wide, she looked down again and dropped her hands to her sides. Then she said, “Wait, wait, _what_?”

The cabin door was thrown open behind them and Miss Jenny rushed in. They both turned to look at her, but she ignored her sister’s raised eyebrow to ask Ichabod, “Did you just in a roundabout way ask my sister if she’s sure the baby’s yours?”

Ichabod’s mouth fell open, but Miss Jenny shook her head and said, “Never mind, more important question: are you saying that something used you and my sister to make a baby? For what? How was it going to find out if its plan worked? How was it planning on getting to that baby?”

Ichabod’s mind raced with the possibilities, then he glanced at the Lieutenant and said, “We must take measures to ensure your safety, Leftenant. In my effort to protect you I may have inadvertently left you in danger.”

The Lieutenant was already shaking her head and said, “No Crane, clearly this thing can just have me walk out of the house whenever it’s ready.”

“That’s not going to happen,” said Miss Jenny. She turned to Ichabod and said, “We need to find this thing and fast. I don’t want my sister to be used as a glorified incubator.”

“I’m not. I’ve already decided. I’ll make the appointment in the morning,” said the Lieutenant.

Miss Jenny stopped talking, gave her sister a wide-eyed glance and then said, “Right, well, that would be one less thing to worry about. But we have to stop them from trying again, Crane had the right idea in leaving but not in keeping it to himself. Someone else is going to have to stay with you. Someone who won’t be able to knock you up.”

Ichabod glanced between the two sisters, sure that he had missed something, and then said, “Yes, that is an excellent idea, Miss Jenny. It is important to your safety, Miss Mills that we keep this secret for as long as we are able.”

Again, the Lieutenant and Miss Jenny exchanged a look and then the Lieutenant sighed and said, “Crane. We all know that I cannot have this baby, and not just because something is out to get it. Have you forgotten about our being Witnesses and the tribulations? About my job? About _Zoe_?”

Oh Ichabod had not forgotten Miss Zoe. In fact he had managed to maintain their relationship with relative ease, despite his guilt and concern for the Lieutenant. But this was an innocent, not some corruption of Moloch’s. Surely its life deserved to be spared. He opened his mouth to make his appeal on the child’s behalf, but shut it again at the look on the Lieutenant’s face.

She had lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes slightly, but he could see the terror in the look all the same. She was pressing her nails of one hand into her thigh so deeply he was sure there would be marks under the fabric. She was terrified and rightly so. Moloch may not have been involved but there was corruption and violation all the same. He took a breath, released it slowly and said, “No, I have not. You are right, Leftenant. Forgive me…I did not mean to imp—”

“Crane, don’t worry about it,” said the Lieutenant, shaking her head. “You did not know what you were doing and neither did I. Let’s just be glad that we caught this early so now we can prepare a counterattack. Nothing messes with us and gets away with it.”

 

Abbie did not know how but the thing behind the pregnancy had found out and was actively trying to stop her from ending it.

In the three weeks that had passed since Abbie had found out the truth, every attempt to end the pregnancy had been thwarted. First, she and Jenny had slept through the first appointment time. The second time Abbie actually got into the car to go and then “woke up” to find herself further upstate, parked near the Hudson, watching families playing together near the river. The third time Abbie actually made it into the office, with Jenny at her side, but fell asleep in the waiting room and had a vivid dream of her and Crane playing with a sharp-eyed, curly-haired little girl called ‘Lottie’. She woke up in tears and had to leave the office if only to be able to breathe.

Now she lay on her couch in the living room considering her next move. She had not made another appointment though neither Jenny nor Crane knew this, not yet. Jenny because she was too wrapped up in the hunt for information with Crane, and Crane because, though he tried not to show it, since her decision he had built another layer on that wall between them.

Abbie got it, she really did. It was not that Crane was from a different era, abortion was a thing for as long as there have been humans on the planet wanting to have the fun without the lifetime consequences. It was not that he did not approve of her making her own choices about her body either, because he respected her more than one would expect a man from his era to, no matter how educated. But the thing was, even if Crane was not in love with her, they shared a bond and a war. It had cost him his home, his life and his family, more or less in that order, and here, no matter how downright awful it had come about, was a second chance to have that.

That was no clearer to Abbie than that afternoon after the incident in the doctor’s office. After Jenny had dropped her off back at the house, she had calmed down and went out onto the front porch with some tea, Crane had walked up seemingly out of nowhere and took a seat across from her. He had not said a single word nor offered any advice, for, what could he say really? But he might have well been shouting from the rooftops exactly what he wanted. 

Abbie took a breath and let her hand rest on her stomach. Still flat, thank God, but that was definitely going to change if this did not get cleared up soon. She would have to tell Danny…not a conversation she was going to enjoy, though she was damn sure not going to mention Crane in it. The last thing she needed was Danny shooting her fellow Witness in a burst of self-righteous outrage. Jenny told her that Crane had not told Zoe either and Abbie hoped he never would. Sure, if the kid turned out anything like the vision, then yeah, everyone would know, but they really did not have to. Okay, so that was unrealistic but if Abbie said that Crane was not the kid’s father then who were they to say otherwise? Well, _Crane_ for one.

Abbie really needed to find the person responsible for this if only to shoot them in the head for what this was doing to Crane. Sure, Abbie was traumatised. She had been really, really trying not to freak out and call this thing what it was if only to hold onto what little was left of her sanity in this life she lived. There had been nights where she had sat up late, staving off sleep with TV and tears, for fear of walking out of the house and waking in some strange man's bed. Thankfully, there had not been any more bouts of somnambulism as far as she knew, but that was poor comfort. There had been late night phone calls too, to crisis centres and help lines, conversations she could only carry out under anonymity and they had helped a lot. But Crane, well, as far as she knew, he had not spoken to anyone other than Jenny and Joe. Worse, and this was the crux of the matter at the moment, he had never gotten a chance to be a father to his son and this situation was making Abbie the bad guy.

She took a breath, released it slowly, closing her eyes as she exhaled and promptly fell asleep.

The cave was dark, wet and cold. Abbie shivered in the thin shift she was wearing and tried to pull the folds of it around her tighter. She had been awake for more than half an hour now and no one had come around to put her back under. For that she was grateful. She was too weak to fight them off anyway.

Something fluttered in her stomach and Abbie squeezed her eyes shut. The baby was alive and Abbie was not quite sure how she felt about that. That she could feel it moving suggested that she had been asleep for much longer than was normal outside of a coma. In fact, she was pretty damn sure she had slept until it was illegal for any doctor to abort the baby unless Abbie’s life was threatened. That was infuriating, yes, but at this point what could she really do about it? The fluttering happened again and Abbie said, “Okay, okay, I get it, I’m hungry too, starving, but you’re going to have to give me some time to get up. I haven’t used these limbs in a while.”

Another flutter, faster now, and Abbie interpreted that to mean “okay” or “thank goodness you’re awake” and looked around the cave again. The entrance lay just ahead. She was sure that she could just get up and walk right out there but her cop sense and human instinct was telling her that it could _not_ be this simple. And yet…

She took a breath, braced a hand on the wall and pushed herself to her feet. There was a long, tense moment where she waited for her legs to give way, and when they did not she straightened. That was when she noticed the change. She was not huge, most of it was the voluminous shift she was sure, but her stomach was noticeably rounder than it had been. No one looking at her would not know that she was pregnant now.

 _“I think the dogs have got something!”_ someone shouted a moment before two large German Shepherds came bounding through the cave entrance.

Abbie shrank back into the wall, turning to one side to keep her stomach out of the way as they rushed right to her feet and began barking. The baby’s fluttering got frantic but Abbie was too busy trying to keep calm to worry about it. And then the men appeared, SHPD, one of who she immediately recognised just as he leaned into his radio and stammered through swiftly-flowing tears, “Captain, we found her. Our girl is alive. Abbie Mills is alive!”

The aftermath was a flurry of activity that Abbie barely noticed, too weak to really focus. There were paramedics nearby, Joe Corbin being one of them, and no one exchanged surprised looks at her belly. She slept through the ride to the hospital, woke up in the middle of examination and one of the doctors said, “You’ll be happy to know that your baby’s doing fine. She’s strong, a fighter, just like her mother.”

“It’s a girl?” Abbie asked, half-asleep. The doctor may have nodded, maybe not, but Abbie murmured, “Lottie,” and let the darkness take her.

The next time Abbie awoke she was still in the hospital and Crane was staring at her with wet, red eyes. Already thin, he looked as if he had lost half his weight and not slept since she disappeared. Abbie smiled up at him and asked, “How long?”

He choked on a sob and said, “Two months…they thought you were dead. I told them you weren’t, I insisted that we keep looking but they said you were an adult woman and could do as you wanted. I…I had to tell them that you were with child.”

That explained the non-reaction then. She shifted to look around her and saw Jenny asleep on the chair next to her bed. She was clutching a pink rabbit. Crane explained, “They told us what…that it’s a girl and even showed us an image. It is the most amazing thing, to see inside of the body using sound waves and liquid. She is healthy and strong. She…I saw her testing her limbs. She looks so very human, Abbie.”

And Crane sounded very…smitten. She could hear the awe and love in his voice. If she thought he had wanted it before, she knew now that there was very little that she could do to deter him. She sighed and said, “That’s because that is what she is. Human. A little bit of me and you mixed together.”

As if to second that, the fluttering movement happened again. It had been going on and off since Abbie awoke and Crane started talking. Abbie put her hand over the spot where it last happened and waited, a moment later the fluttering started up under her palm. Then Crane asked, “She moves again?”

Abbie shook her head and said, “She moves a lot. I think…I think she might have woken me up….How did you guys find us?”

She turned to look at Crane as she said it and noted the way his eyes lit up slightly when he registered her use of the plural. Still, he cleared his throat and said, “Your phone. It suddenly switched on. Miss Jenny and I were following a lead when Agent Reynolds called and informed us that they had had a ‘breakthrough’. He told us to meet here. We saw them wheeling you in…you were so….”

Abbie lifted a hand towards him and Crane strode across the room to take it, grasping hold with both hands and holding it to his face. He was staring at her so intently, Abbie wondered that she had not caught ablaze. Then Jenny said, “Oh! Abbie!”

The next thing Abbie saw was a curtain of curly dark hair.

 

Ichabod had not said a word to anyone, but he had a very good idea who was behind this. After Abbie disappeared, it quickly became clear that Pandora had no hand in it, though she did taunt him and Miss Jenny with the possibility that she did know where Abbie was. More than once, Ichabod was sure, Pandora had made mention of caves and internment. It had been a painful, trying time, but Ichabod had forged ahead comforted that, while Pandora was not willing to make it easy for them to recover his partner, at the very least Abbie was still alive. And the child.

“Lottie”, Abbie had called her, short for “Charlotte’. He had no idea where the name had come from, and Miss Jenny had teased her for being so old fashioned, but that was apparently his soon-to-be daughter’s name. Charlotte Augusta (Jenny’s suggestion, only half-joking) Stephanie (his, for his father) Crane, and on that last one he would give no quarter. Abbie had not protested, though she had sniffed a little at some of the other names he had written on her name-list and then went back to trawling the internet for new clothes.

As for _Abbie_ taking his name, the matter was dismissed almost before Crane could get the words out. Abbie had declared that while she understood that in his time it was expected that a couple in a situation such as theirs made haste to be wed before the child was born, this was not that era. Further, she had no intention of walking into a courthouse as if trying to cover up something of which she was ashamed, when she was not. So, no, they were not to be wed and Ichabod had been forced to accept it or start looking for another place to live, because was it not also unseemly for an unmarried man and woman to be cohabiting in his era too?

Agent Reynolds had been remarkably calm and understanding about the whole thing. Ichabod had been forced to bring him into the fold, especially once Witnessing got a little harder without the other Witness. When they crossed paths once too many times, the agent had summoned Ichabod to his office and demanded the truth. Ichabod told him everything, though not the how on the baby, that he left to the man’s imagination, and even provided proof of his story with the help of Miss Jenny and Master Corbin. The young agent had been stunned and reluctant, but once he got his first real experience of Pandora’s activities, he was practically demanding to be brought into the fight.

Miss Zoe, on the other hand, well, that was a complicated thing. Before Abbie disappeared, she had been taking steps to end the pregnancy so there had been no need to tell Miss Zoe anything. But after…telling the authorities of the child had added a sense of urgency to the search, more so than it would have been if there had been none. Adults were allowed to disappear if they wanted to, but not with children they shared with other people. Danny wanted Ichabod to go on television and make a more public appeal, in the event that anyone saw them, but Miss Jenny shot that idea down with the reminder that they really needed to keep Ichabod’s existence low-key. Of course, that all fell apart the moment word got out in the town of the baby. Soon, Ichabod could not go anywhere without receiving tea and sympathy, advice, cake, and, on one occasion, a reprimand for going with Mad Lori Mills’ daughter, crazy like her sister, just able to hide it better, _what did you expect to happen?_

Miss Zoe had been by Ichabod’s side through all this, so of course, along the way, she found out the truth. Ichabod made no attempt to lie, not exactly, and though she was angry and did not speak to him for a week, she eventually returned to his side because—her words—she knew that he really needed a friend during this time. He had not told her anything else, determined to keep her from his secret life even if she now watched him with suspicion. She had even accompanied him to the hospital when they recovered Abbie and had been asking daily on how they were getting along. But their conversations were noticeably less flirty and though Abbie was insisting that he try to make amends, Ichabod did not see the point. Miss Zoe felt betrayed and soon there would be Lottie to consider.

And this brought Ichabod back to how he had figured out the ones behind his and Abbie’s situation: the Hessians.

While Abbie was in the hospital, Ichabod had insisted that Agent Reynolds take him to the site where they had found her. Two steps into the cave, dirty, dank, cold, the last place anyone should confine a woman, Ichabod saw the familiar markings and caught a whiff of something that hit but did not entirely dislodge something in his memory. The two men went immediately to the Archives to research dream demons and it did not take Ichabod two minutes to find what he was looking for. The Hessians had made a deal with another devil, one that had helped them engineer the dreams that led to Lottie’s conception. But why?

For the first few years of her life, Lottie was going to be pretty much useless. She would be entirely dependent on her mother to survive and if the Hessians thought that Abbie was going to be a docile hostage, well, they were clearly naïve. But even when Lottie would be old enough to train, there was still the matter of her being just an ordinary human child. Her parents were the Witnesses, not her, and they had no special powers other than the uncanny ability to be a thorn in Armageddon’s side. Unless they were preparing her to be the vessel of something. Ichabod had already lost one child to evil, there was no way in hell he was going to lose another.

His phone buzzed on his desk, pulling him from his thoughts. He was alone in the Archives, Miss Jenny was staying at the house with Abbie for the night and Ichabod decided that now was as good a time as any to find out what he could about child sacrifices. He also thought it was best to maintain a respectful distance from Abbie for, though they were having a child together, this was not something they had decided on beforehand. She did not appear too troubled by this, she had even let him feel the child moving within her that morning, laughing at the expression on his face when Lottie directed a rather strong kick at his hand. But he did not miss the effort it took for her to let him touch her sometimes. Gone was their easy familiarity, their genial rapport. And that, sometimes more than anything, was something he would never forgive the Hessians for.

He rubbed his eyes and reached for the phone, just as it started playing a haunting lullaby. Ichabod started and then shot right out of his seat. The lullaby cut off and dissolved into laughter. His eyes went wide, he knew that voice. It was Pandora.

The woman herself appeared moments later, seated comfortably on a nearby chair, as if she had always been there. Ichabod did not move and she laughed again and said, “Oh, relax, Daddy. I’m not here to tell you that I’ve come for the baby. No, no, I’m here to help.”

Ichabod straightened but said nothing. She rolled her eyes, stood up and walked over to him. He kept himself still, determined not to give her an opportunity to attack. She walked behind him, slipped her arms around him and said, “This was not part of the original plan but tangents are allowed. Interlopers, however, are not.”

“I was right,” said Ichabod, at last finding his voice, “you are not behind this.”

Pandora released him, scoffed and said, “Of course not. I have no need for a child. If anything, it’s a liability that is going to ruin everything. No, I would have done something much more fun with that power. I would have loved to see your face when you awoke to find her dead beneath you. Or maybe her sister? Miss Zoe?”

Ichabod turned to her with a sharp look and she smiled. “Don’t, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t even care. But you do care. You want them safe. So, consider this a gift. I will let you see what they blocked from your memory.”

Ichabod’s eyes widened and she nodded, “Yes, they did block your memories. If they hadn’t you would have stopped them a long time ago. Do you want to see what happened?”  
Ichabod stared at her for a ten count and then nodded. The last thing he saw was Pandora’s eyes flash reptilian yellow.

 

Lottie had started shifting about an hour earlier and had not stopped since. This was annoying because, one, Abbie really wanted to sleep and her daughter apparently thought that internal organs were exercise equipment, and two, Abbie was very sure they had something to do with Crane.

Since that night in the hospital, Abbie realised that Lottie recognised and _loved_ the sound of Crane’s voice. The moment he walked into a room, she started going crazy. The man even had the ability to charm unborn women, though Abbie supposed this was somewhat understandable given that this one was his actual daughter. There was also the fact that Crane had taken to talking to child whenever he was present, as if she was actually capable of responding. Unless kicks counted, which did to him, in which case Abbie did not appreciate being overruled by an infant that could not yet support itself.

But the worst part of this whole thing was, Abbie found herself noticing little things about Crane now that were both endearing and terrifying. Ichabod Crane was not a man who ran from responsibility. From the moment he had learned of the child his first concern was to find a way to protect it. He had risked the wrath of a number of people he knew and cared about to ensure that they did everything they could to get Abbie back. And since then, though he insisted on giving her as much space as he could, it was clear that he could barely contain his excitement sometimes at actually getting to be a father to his child. And her goddamn hormones were absolutely fucking thrilled about it.

The first time Abbie noticed this was a few weeks after she left the hospital. Crane was over with Jenny and Joe and instead of spending the time with his video games or Netflix or whatever he usually got up to when she was at work, he had insisted on tending to her hand and foot. She got annoyed with that real quick, but under her fury was a barely contained desire to kick the others out of the house so that she could show Crane just what she wanted him to do for her instead. She had written it off as a one-off thing, understanding that it was really just her hormones and down girl, you just set him up with a nice girl he was genuinely interested in, don’t be _that_ girl. And yet….

As time passed it had only gotten stronger. She realised that she was curious, kind of, sort of, to know what she had been unaware of for that fortnight. It was not fair to be at this stage and not remember how she had gotten there. Of course, Crane had not been forthcoming with details, though she suspected it was less to spare her sensibilities than his own embarrassment. What was a woman left to do but imagine…and _how_.

More than once she worried that she had been put under enchantment again, but Crane never spent the night at the house except for that first one after she got back from the hospital. It was extremely thoughtful of him, and damned infuriating because sooner or later she was going to snap and he was in big trouble.

Suddenly, the kicking stopped. Abbie did not notice at first, too busy trying to fall asleep but when three minutes passed with nothing, she opened her eyes. There was another minute of quiet and Abbie sat up becoming alarmed. And then at that exact moment, she heard the front door open and Crane called, “Leftenant?”

Lottie immediately started, well, dancing. There was no other way to describe the movement really. Abbie groaned and muttered, “Charlotte Crane, you and me are going to have a good long talk about all of this when you’re out of there.” Then louder, to Crane, “I’m up here.”

She remembered his phobia about going into her bedroom while she was still in it mere moments before he actually walked in and went straight to her side. Lottie went, if possible, wilder and Abbie groaned again and said, “Baby girl, you cannot do that. You still need me around.”

Long accustomed to hearing her complain, Crane hesitated only a moment before putting his hand alongside hers and saying in a low but firm voice, “Charlotte Crane, you must behave.”

There was a pause and then a flutter. Abbie giggled and said, “Well, good, at least she listens to one of us.”

Crane smiled at that but did not move his hand. Abbie decided to ignore it as she asked, “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

Crane’s smile dimmed a little and he kept his gaze on his hand as he replied, “I know how this happened.”

Abbie inhaled sharply and he looked up into her eyes. The ever-present guilt was there, yes, but so was the anger, sharpened, heightened to a cold fury that threatened to set ablaze everything it touched. It made Abbie’s breath catch in her throat but she soldiered on to ask, “How?”

He shook his head, breaking the connection but tapped his fingers—an unconscious movement—along her stomach before replying, “Pandora. She…she came to me in the Archives and asked me if I wanted to see. She was…she was most upset, not at us, but at what she saw as an encroaching on her territory.”

Abbie shifted to sit up but Crane lifted his hand to her arm and said, “The Hessians. They have joined forces with another demon and this one is determined that a child of the Witnesses shall be the anti-Christ.”

Abbie’s hands went to her stomach. Even Lottie gave a distressed flutter. Crane put a hand around the back of Abbie’s neck and pressed his forehead to hers. Abbie was stunned into stillness. Crane had been wary of touching her uninvited for weeks, to the extent that he walked around with his hands clasped firmly behind his back whenever he was with her. For a time they stayed like this, Crane’s eyes closed, breath even, while Abbie’s heart raced, and not out of fear, and then he said, “I shall not let it happen.”

“So what do we do?” asked Abbie. “I’m not sitting around here waiting for them to come for her. How did they get to us in the first place?”

Crane released her but then dipped his head to rest his cheek, ever so gently, to her stomach before he replied, “I bumped into a man out for a morning jog as I left the house and you into a woman buying fruit before you returned to the house for the evening.” His voice rumbled through her stomach and made her toes curl. She willed herself to keep still as he continued, “That moment of contact was all it took for they both carried some kind of aerosol device. After that it was a simple matter of waiting until we were both asleep.”

Abbie nodded at this and then asked the question she was dying to have answered, “Did you see…everything?”

Rich crimson colour bloomed across Crane’s neck and face but he answered anyway, “Yes. As you recall we went to bed separately. Then I appeared to awaken in the middle of the night and came here. You…you were waiting for me. Then I returned to my room and we woke the next morning none the wiser.” He paused here and withdrew from her to look her in the eyes and said, “I am sorry, Abbie, for what has happened.”

She sighed and then nodded and said, “Well now we know who, we know how and we have an idea of why. All that’s left is to find them and stop them.”

“Indeed,” he said, and then stood up.

Before she could stop herself, Abbie asked, “Hey, where are you going?”

He paused and looked at her with slightly widened eyes but said, “Miss Jenny is right across the hall. I must get back to the Archives.”

Abbie pretended to think about it for a second and said, “No…Lottie has been going crazy waiting for you. The minute you leave, she’s not going to let me sleep.”

He met her gaze directly. She held it, trying to keep all trace of an ulterior motive out of her face. He took a breath, exhaled slowly and said, “Okay.”

Abbie thought she felt her heart skip a beat, but that might have been Lottie kicking again. Crane kept his gaze on her as he removed his shoes and walked around the bed to climb in beside her. Abbie slid down a little, not yet sleepy, and he scooted closer to rest his head as near as he dared to her belly. Then he put a hand where Lottie had last kicked and said, “How are doing, Miss Charlotte? I’m told that I was missed.”

Lottie directed two sharp kicks at his hand and though Abbie winced, she smiled. Crane smiled back at her and said, “Fear not, my lady, I am not going anywhere.”

Abbie did not recall falling asleep but when she opened her eyes the bedroom was bright and cool. Lottie gave her a morning flutter, lazy, as if she too had been asleep and Abbie swept her hand over the curve of her stomach. Then she turned and looked at Crane.

He was wide awake and must have been for some time judging by the lack of sleep in his face and the scent of soap on his skin. Abbie smiled and asked, “What is it?”

He said, “You are most divine.”

Abbie blinked, stunned, and said, “If this is one of those ‘motherly glow’ things, I’m going to hit you.”

Crane smiled and said, “No. It is not that. It is simply that, despite everything, you love her still.”

Abbie felt her cheeks heat up but she fought the blush as she replied, “Of course I do. She is a part of me. I mean, we’re still going to beat the hell out of the people who took away my choice in having her, but I am not unhappy that she is here. I want to see her face. I want to know what she is like…though I think we can safely say she’s a Daddy’s Girl already.”

At this Crane’s expression fell a little and he said, “I do hope that I will live up to her expectations.”

Abbie was suddenly, starkly reminded of their own relationships with their respective fathers. Crane’s father had disowned him for joining the Patriots and Abbie’s had walked out on his wife and two young daughters. Neither man was exactly the paragon of virtue. But Crane’s father had raised him, and before he left, Abbie’s father had given her a lot of happy memories. Then there was the whole debacle with Crane’s son, Jeremy. Granted Crane had not known of the boy until he woke up centuries too late, it was still a sore point that he had never managed to connect with him, or save him. And now he was going to have another kid under some definitely dubious circumstances. Sometimes life was just so unfair.

She reached for his hand and when he gave it to her, let it rest on her stomach. After a few minutes, Lottie pushed against it. It tickled a little, for once, and Abbie said, “As long as you’re here, anything you do will exceed her expectations. She already loves you.”

Crane stared at their hands for a moment, then sought out her other hand and brought it to his lips. She did not blush, of course, because she was a grown woman, but she did drop her gaze from his face. And then he murmured, “No, no, do not hide from me…”

She looked up at him in surprise, the words tugging at something in her memory, but nothing came of it. She let her surprise melt into a smile and said, “Not that I can. Not anymore.”

 

Nothing happened for months. Ichabod found himself spending more and more nights lying beside Abbie while Lottie shifted and squirmed at the sound of his voice, and waking in the morning with Abbie half-wrapped around him. He supposed there were worse things to be than her body pillow, though he wondered why she still did not want to make this arrangement official even if they never shared a bed again after Lottie was born. Their days were still spent separately. Abbie was confined to her desk both as an agent and as a Witness. This displeased her to no end, though she tried to hide it and pass the time by reading up on their history. Subsequently, many an afternoon Ichabod would find her fast asleep at her desk with an open book for a pillow.

Summer turned to fall proper. Halloween arrived and Miss Jenny painted a jack-o-lantern on her sister’s belly. Ichabod made an excellent Jack Skellington, if he might say so himself, and the picture on the mantel of them was one of his favourites. There was even a Halloween-themed baby shower full of skeleton, gravestone and Headless Horseman topped cupcakes much to the Mills’ sisters’ macabre delight and Ichabod’s exasperation. At least Agent Reynolds and Joe both seemed to agree with Ichabod that it was perhaps in poor taste, though neither voiced as much aloud to either sister.

Winter brought the final stretch and Abbie got grumpy. She was over the backache and insomnia and the mood swings and the goddamn kicking that kept her up at night and no amount of belly rubs and light scolding would abate. The nursery had been prepared, the house baby-proofed, the car-seat installed and hospital bag packed. All that was left was to wait, and the whole world seemed to be holding its breath.

Charlotte Augusta Stephanie Crane, 6 pounds, 3 ounces, and nineteen inches long (“Oh, she’s going to be so tall!”), grey-eyed (“Perfectly normal, some are born like that, might go brown in a few days.”) and black-haired, came screaming into the world on December 25th, as predicted and turned out to be the first baby born in the county for the night. Her anxious father hovered while the nurses cleaned her and weighed her and then carried her back to her mother himself. Lottie quieted the moment she was in his arms and kept her eyes on him even when she was in her mother’s arms. Abbie scowled and said, “See, told you, Daddy’s girl.”

Over the next few weeks, Lottie’s eyes took on shades of blue and her skin darkened, but not by much. She grew chubby and rosy-cheeked and spent much of her days in her father’s arms. Ichabod carried her around the house in one hand, singing or talking to her, and became an expert at bathing, changing and burping a baby. Abbie pretended that it did not annoy her but Ichabod could clearly see the jealousy in her face each time the child quieted immediately when he held her, even more so when he had to instruct Lottie to let her mother take over. Of course it helped that Abbie was the child’s primary food source and some days she wanted absolutely nothing to do with her father. Miss Jenny laughed long and hard at the way the two competed for the child’s affection, and declared that “Her Imperial Majesty, Queen Charlotte of Sleepy Hollow” was perhaps the worst opponent the Witnesses would ever face.

Ichabod did not care for the royal epithet, but “Queen Charlotte” did soon gain quite a list of subjects in the town. Miss Jenny and Master Corbin were the first to fall under her rule, then Agent Reynolds, of all people, when Abbie visited work to drop off paperwork to extend her leave. Somehow the child entered the office as Miss Charlotte Crane and left as Special Agent Charlotte Crane complete with her own badge, t-shirt, cap and vest. Next was Miss Zoe, when she visited Ichabod at the Archives. Things were still awkward between them but she took one look at the baby girl and the next day showed up with a selection of miniature Colonial Era dresses. Abbie had sniffed a little at that, like the list, but otherwise said nothing and even put the child in one the next day for her afternoon walk with Ichabod. Ichabod was quite pleased to inform Abbie later that Lottie's outfit was very well-received.

But the most frightening was Pandora. Ichabod awoke one night with the hair on the back of his neck on end and hurried to the nursery to find their nemesis reciting the fairy tale, _Sleeping Beauty_ , to the sleeping child. She stopped when Ichabod entered, put a finger to her lips to quiet him and whispered, “Shh, we don’t want to wake her now. I’ve only just got her back down to sleep.”

Ichabod froze, torn between rushing at the witch and running to the crib to grab his infant daughter. Pandora caught the look on his face and burst out laughing, then said, “Oh, no, I have no quarrel with her. Not yet. I’ve actually come to give her a gift, just like in the story.”

Ichabod made his decision and rushed to the crib. Pandora vanished with a cackle. The baby did not stir but Ichabod lifted her out and played with her little feet until she woke with a cry. Only then did he allow himself to breathe. Only then did he notice the little doll, red-haired and green eyed, dressed like a nurse of his era, as Katrina had appeared to him the first day he laid eyes on her. He glanced down at his daughter’s face, eyes wet and wide, confused as to why her father had disturbed her and even less pleased about it, and said, “I am so sorry, come, how about you rest with me for a while?”

Lottie kept crying as he carried her out of the room. But Ichabod’s mind was racing. This was a warning of some kind, and he did not like the conclusions.

It happened the next night. 

Abbie had gone back to work that day and returned exhausted. She had duly insisted on taking over Lottie’s care, but when she nodded off with the baby in her lap while they were watching a movie for the third time, Ichabod sent her off to bed. She grumbled about it but went anyway and Ichabod settled back into the cushions with their daughter on his stomach. He woke up in the middle of the night with a start when someone lifted the familiar weight from his chest.

The room was dim, most of the lights were off, but Ichabod would know Abbie’s frame anywhere. What alarmed him was that she was dressed warmly, it was still chilly out, not yet spring, and had Lottie’s carrier on a nearby chair.

“Abbie?” asked Ichabod, blinking away his sleepiness.

She did not respond, but set Lottie down in her carrier. The baby was fast asleep, unaware of danger, trusting that the familiar scent of her mother meant safety. The mechanical movements and silence though, that was frightfully familiar, of the vision of the night of Abbie and Ichabod’s first encounter. Ichabod was up off the couch like a shot and snatched up the carrier.

Abbie did not make a sound but immediately took the clip off of her gun holster. Alarm became outright panic. The Hessians meant to take them from him, _tonight_! If Ichabod had not awoken, if he had only gone to sleep in his own bed and left Lottie in the nursery, they would have disappeared into the night, never to be seen again.

That was the last straw.

Ichabod Crane was, for the most part, a reasonable man. He had always been a progressive soul, willing to look at both sides of an argument and coming to his own conclusions. He was also a man of some principle. Okay, yes, there was that whole debacle with Katrina and Abraham, but for the most part he liked to think that he was fair and understanding. As such, he firmly believed that a man’s duty to his family was of the utmost importance. He had been denied, by circumstance, by Hessians, the right to that family the first time. There was no way in Hell or Earth that he was going to allow anyone to take away this new one.

“Abbie, Abbie, listen to me, you must wake up,” he said, backing away from her with Lottie’s carrier behind him and his other hand raised between him and Abbie.

Abbie continued forward as if she had not heard him. He did not doubt that she could not, too deeply asleep. He wondered if the Hessians would have allowed her to wake up again after she brought them their daughter and his anger grew. These Hessians meant to destroy the Witnesses and use their child to end the world. No, Ichabod would never allow that to happen.

“Abbie! _Abbie_!” he called again. 

Abbie pulled the gun from its holster and trained it on him. Even unconscious of the world, Ichabod had no doubt that she would not miss. She would kill him right there without waking and then drive off into the night with their child.

He set the carrier down and rushed at her, pushing her hands into the air. They tumbled over the couch and the gun went off, shattering something. The explosion was near deafening in the silence of the night and woke Lottie at once. She screamed but Ichabod could not go to her, still struggling with Abbie to get the gun out of her hands and her subdued. But merely moments after Lottie started crying, Abbie stopped struggling and said, “Wait, stop, Crane! Crane, what are you doing?”

He had managed to pin her to the living room floor with her hands over her head, her much smaller size proving, for once, disadvantageous. Still, wary of deceit, Ichabod said, “Abbie?”

“Yes, it’s me, get off! What are you doing?” she demanded.

Ichabod released a breath he did not know he was holding but did not let go. Instead he dipped his head to her shoulder and breathed in. She smelled of sweat, baby lotion and gunpowder, her breathing still rapid, heart racing beneath his jaw. She asked again, “Crane?”

He lifted his head again to meet her gaze and said, “I can’t do that, not yet.”

“What?” Abbie asked, eyes wide. She shifted to throw him off and he pressed down firmer, though knowing Abbie it would not take her long to get him away, especially not with Lottie still crying. “Crane, get off. What the hell is this?”

“You were taking her to them,” he said.

She stopped struggling and looked him in the eyes again and asked, “What did you just say?”

Ichabod closed his eyes, not willing to see the pain filling hers and said, “The Hessians called you and you were going to take her to them.”

 

It took some doing and Danny’s intervention but eventually the local PD was placated, Reyes even gave Abbie a nod for fighting off the intruder without killing them, and their neighbours mollified. The intruder story was Crane’s idea, actually, but Abbie was happy to go along with it. Technically, there had been an intruder in the house, and if Crane had not woken up….

Jenny had come over as soon as she was called and sat now with Lottie in the living room, staring pensively at the destroyed TV. Lottie, unaware, kept trying to pull her aunt’s hair into her mouth, squirming and shifting to get herself upright to better see the world around her. Lottie’s hair had begun to lighten to brown and there were even blonde strands in-between. She would have a head full of wild curls before she was five years old. Jenny had even joked about dressing the infant up as Princess Merida for her first Halloween. Abbie wanted to see that. No, she was going to see that.

Finally, Crane saw the last officer to the door and returned with Danny and Joe. The five of them were now Team Witness and with the situation as it was, all ideas were needed. Then Crane said, “I think that, for now, it is best for Charlotte to stay with Miss Jenny.”

“What?” Abbie and Jenny exclaimed at the same time.

He had gone mad. There was no other explanation. Lottie was barely three months old, she was still heavily dependent on Abbie and had not exactly taken to the bottle as they had hoped. Abbie stood up, “No. How long is that going to take? No, we end this now.”

“We have not been to locate these Hessians in months, even with our enemy’s helpful hints. No, we cannot risk it. What if they had put me under too and I did not awaken in time? You could have been anywhere,” said Crane. 

He had that look he got when he had made up his mind about something and was determined to see it through. He was going to send their child away from her. Abbie looked at Lottie in Jenny’s arms and thought of Jeremy and Katrina. She thought she had understood before why Katrina had thought it best to give Jeremy up to protect him. That took strength. But she also now understood why, after everything, Katrina has been so determined to try to change her son and then kill his father to protect him. Why Abbie’s own mother had tried to kidnap her children and disappear. Nothing was going to come between Abbie and Lottie. She simply could not allow it.

“No,” said Abbie, firmer still. “We find a way to end this today. The Hessians know by now that their attempt failed. They’re going to try again. We must have something to fight them with. What about that doll that Pandora left? Where is it?”

Jenny replied, “In the Archives. It’s just a doll dressed like Katrina to mess with us…but it’s the same size and…” She paused to heft her niece a moment and her eyes went wide. Then she stood up and said, “The same size and weight as Lottie. Oh, I’ve got an idea but you might not like this Ichy.”

Jenny was right, Crane _hated_ the idea but Abbie loved it. The Hessians had tried to get Abbie and Lottie together for a reason. While Crane’s part was long over and done with, Lottie still needed Abbie. It was odd that they had not put Crane under too, to ensure that he did not interfere but that was a mystery for another day. Since there was no way in hell that they were actually going to let Abbie walk into their waiting arms with Lottie, Jenny suggested a bait and switch. The doll would be Lottie’s body double and when the Hessians called Abbie again, she would take that to them instead.

Crane started to protest immediately, even as Danny and Joe both nodded along with the idea. Pandora’s dressing the doll as Katrina had even given Jenny another idea. When Katrina had gone back to Henry and Abraham’s at Frederick’s Manor, they had used an enchantment on her necklace to convince her that the demon baby was an ordinary newborn. Grace Dixon had some record of that spell in her journal. All they had to do was replicate it and voila, Sleepwalking Abbie would believe the doll to be Lottie and take that to the Hessians, while Crane, Danny and Joe would follow via tracking device ready to bring down Armageddon.

Crane still protested. There were too many what-ifs. What if the Hessians changed tactics and came to the house for Abbie and Lottie? What if Abbie did not fall for the fake baby? What if the Hessians killed Abbie before Crane and the others could get to them? “I will not allow you or anyone else to endanger the mother of my child any further,” he declared. “We try a new plan.”

Abbie and the others were left stunned, even Lottie stopped and stared at her father. Then Abbie remembered that night at Frederick’s Manor more than two years earlier. After they had learned that the creature that haunted the house had nearly killed Katrina and the then-newborn Jeremy, Crane had stalked out to Abbie’s jeep, pulled an axe from the trunk and chopped the creature to bits. When he emerged some time later covered in blood like something from a teen slasher flick, the best Abbie could have done was spread some plastic over the seat to protect it. She was still sure that the man who detailed the vehicle later had not entirely believed her story about accidentally hitting a dog and taking it to the vet as it bled over her seat. And the look in Crane’s eyes right now was the same, all he was missing was the axe.

Still, reason was needed now, Homicidal Maniac Crane could come out later. Abbie glanced at the others and said, “Ichabod, I need you to hear me, right here, right now.”

He looked at her, meeting her gaze even as stubbornness set a furrow in his brow. She exhaled and said, “I know, I get it. I don’t want anything to happen to me either. We are a team as Witnesses and we are a team as Lottie’s parents. We need to be together to do that. But we are also soldiers in a war that has been going on for a quite a long time. We have a responsibility not just to each other and Lottie, but to a whole lot of other people who don’t know it yet and will never find out.

“What the Hessians want to do is terrible, but not just to me or Lottie. They want to turn our daughter into a monster. They want to make her into Henry all over again and they will stop at nothing. You and I cannot allow that and in order to stop that you have to trust me to do this. Let me do my duty as a soldier in this fight and go out there. I’m scared, yes, but I know you will be right behind me. These guys, our friends, our allies, will be right behind me. Trust in us as a team…and then you can bring out the axe.”

The others all shot her confused looks but Abbie kept her eyes on Crane. He did not want to go along with this plan, she could see it on his face, but he could also see the merits. It took him a moment but then he nodded, once, and Abbie smiled.

She must have finally arrived at the rendezvous point because Abbie awoke to the sound of Lottie crying from the backseat. It was just a recording, an idea Danny came up with after Abbie recalled hearing Lottie cry moments before she woke up in the living room. Thankfully it had worked, but now Abbie hoped the others really were close because she was at an airstrip.

There were two men at the front gate and they flashed their lights into the car. Abbie tried to look as dead-eyed as possible, and after a moment the men stepped away and the gate rolled back. Abbie drove in and immediately saw the private jet in the middle of the tarmac and the dark-suited men waiting beside it. She whispered and hoped desperately that the mike hidden in the lining of her jacket picked it up, “Two men at the gate. There’s a jet waiting. I think they were planning to fly us out of the country.”

She stopped the jeep next to the plane and switched it off. She had no earpiece to hear if the others had received the message and there was no sound of commotion at the gate. She turned to the backseat. To help the illusion they had wrapped a blanket around the doll and yet Abbie was sure that she was staring at her sleeping daughter. She hoped none of the men decided to check. They had not moved from the plane so evidently Abbie was to bring the baby to them. She set her face, unbuckled herself and stepped out of the jeep.

It was freezing out but both of the men wore heavy, expensive coats. Abbie did not acknowledge them but went to the backdoor and took out Lottie’s car seat. Once again she marvelled at how lifelike the spell made the doll and felt another wave of sympathy for Katrina. How was any person, to say nothing of a mother going to kill anything that looked this innocent and helpless?

One of the men had appeared at her side and closed the backdoor. He then took Abbie by the arm and started walking her to the plane. She kept the carrier close, as if to shield the child from the cold wind, and made no protest. Just as her foot touched the first step on the staircase though, there was a crackle of static in the air and someone shouted, _“She was followed! It’s a trap! The other Witness is he—argh!”_

The two men with her exchanged a look. Abbie forced herself to remain still. One of the men reached for his gun and Abbie threw caution to the wind and slammed the guy nearest to her with the car seat. Startled, he grabbed for it, giving her enough time to draw her gun and drop him, then swing around and get his partner too. Abbie ran up the rest of the stairs into the plane.

She was greeted by more men with guns, one of who pressed a barrel into her temple while another pulled her gun from her fingers. Her attention though, was on a man seated on one of the leather chairs. He wore a white suit where they others were in black and his eyes were gold: Orion.

A wave of revulsion and anger, of violation swept through Abbie in that instant. To think she had once trusted this man and hoped that he would become an ally. To think that she had allowed this man to cause a rift between her and Crane. If she was not outgunned at the moment, Abbie was sure that she would empty a clip between his mocking eyes. Instead, squeezing her hands into fists to stop her shaking, Abbie said, “It was you, Orion? What happened to all that talk about saving the world? Was it all talk?”

Orion nodded to one of the men and they pushed Abbie to take the seat opposite his. Then he said, “No, Miss Mills. It wasn’t all talk. I’ve just decided on a new plan.”

Abbie felt the hold on her temper slip and she snapped, “And to do that you had to do this to Crane and me? Do you know what you’ve done to me? What you’ve done to him? Do you even care?”

Orion snapped his fingers and one of the men brought over two glasses of champagne. Orion offered one to Abbie, which she refused, while he took the other and drank deeply before replying, “Where is the child, Abigail?”

“Never had it,” said Abbie. “I had an abortion. We can do that nowadays, you know. Get rid of unwanted pregnancies.”

Orion smiled at her and said, “You lie. Unnecessarily, I might add. Your body alone tells the story, your face is fat and your stomach is still round. And then there is this: Charlotte Augusta Stephanie Crane was born on Our Lord’s birthday almost three months ago. Her nursery is pink and white because deep down you’re just as girly as they come. Ichabod stays home with her while you work and he takes her for walks into town or visiting with his girlfriend—interesting relationship you have there. And, here’s the kicker, you think that pretending she was never even born is going to _protect_ you!”

He surged out of his seat and pounced on Abbie, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her head towards him as he said, “Do you think that keeping her from me will significantly change my plans? Do you think that I cannot _make_ you have _another_ child?”

Abbie, grasping at the hand in her hair, tried to suppress the shiver that went through her at the implication. Instead, she focussed on keeping her voice steady, calm as she asked, “How did you ‘make me’ have the first one?”

Orion smiled at her, his eyes bright and wild, and said, “Oh that was easy. There are demons that can induce sleepwalking in their victims. Demons that can alter dreams or put you into trances. I merely found one that could do both, though I must say it did not take much to get you two to do what I wanted. Do you want to know what Ichabod secretly desires more than anything? What he would give anything to have?”

Abbie asked instead, “Why did you let me go the first time? You had me in that cave for more than a month. You never had to let me wake up.”

Orion shook his head, “No, it was too dangerous. Your body was malnourished and started to atrophy. I merely had to stop you from having the abortion anyway, and once it was too late for any doctor in the state to let you do it, I let you go. I needed you to be healthy enough to care for the child after it was born.”

The intercom beeped and then the captain said, “Uh, sir, we have a problem. There’s a man in my path with an axe.”

It was Crane. Abbie released a little breath which Orion noticed and he said, “I see your fellow Witness has come to retrieve you. Again I ask, where is your daughter, Abigail?”

Abbie kept her mouth closed. Orion sighed and straightened. A moment later a tall, willowy blonde stepped into view. She was dressed like a flight attendant but the white eyes gave her away. Orion turned to her and said, “She is being difficult. Find out where they hid the child.”

Abbie slipped her hand into her jacket pocket and grasped her phone. They had also loaded audio of Lottie’s crying on it in the event of an emergency. The blonde stepped forward and put one hand on Abbie’s shoulder and grabbed her chin with the other and said, “Do not worry, Mama, we shall not hurt the _dziechina_. You shall be with her every step of the way.”

Abbie pressed the audio button on the phone and that was when the shooting started.

 

In the moment before the others started firing on the plane, Ichabod came to a stunning realisation: he was in love with Abbie.

It was not because she had given him Charlotte. No, if things had progressed normally, inevitably, perhaps, they would have married and had children. It was also not because they had been bonded as Witnesses. Though that was a connection he felt as strongly about as he had about his marriage and the rightness of their cause, it was not enough to surrender his heart to her. No, he was in love with Abbie because she was his equal, his other half, she helped him shoulder the weight of the world, engaged his intellect, challenged him to grow, to learn of the world they were in and herself to see him through it. She was smart and funny and brave and brooked no nonsense from anyone, not even him, _especially_ not him and when it came down to it, if they were to fall, they would fall together. So yes, Ichabod was in love with Abbie, and he had just let her walk into a plane full of murderous Hessians and Orion, that Turncoat, and was expected to stand out there and hope they would not kill her until Agent Reynold’s reinforcements arrived to help.

Nope, not a chance in hell. Lottie was with Miss Zoe now, waiting on them, and he was not going back to their child without her mother.

He saw the pilot message the cabin, holding the man’s gaze the entire time. Ichabod knew that that was not good news for Abbie, no matter if Orion still needed her. So, with a weary sigh and a hasty prayer, Ichabod flipped the axe in his hand, stalked over to the closest wing and started hacking.

 _“Crane, what the hell are you doing?”_ demanded Agent Reynolds in his ear. Ichabod ignored him, making quick work of the propeller. The pilot tried to start anyway, and Ichabod turned his attack onto the body of the wing itself. His father had kept birds as a hobby when Ichabod was a boy. He knew well how to clip one’s wings.

One of the Hessians on the plane noticed the commotion and came out shooting. Someone made quick work of him and the shootout began. Ichabod went around to the other side of the plane and took out that wing too. Even if Orion and the Hessians forced them to retreat, they were not leaving on this aircraft.

Then the others were there and Ichabod could hear the sirens in the distance. Miss Jenny screamed at him, “What the hell, Crane! Are you trying to get my sister killed?”  
Ichabod did not bother with replying. He pulled the pistol from her hip and started up the stairs of the plane. Halfway up, Orion himself appeared holding Abbie in front of him with a gun to her head. Ichabod stopped and Orion said, “That is as far as you go.”

The sirens were getting closer. Orion could fly off if he wanted to, he had done it before, but his men could not. Ichabod had no intention of letting him go anywhere. As long as Orion lived, Abbie and Lottie were in danger. Orion, still convinced that he had a chance of winning this, continued, “Now, once again, Ichabod Crane, you have become a threat to my work. I think I have allowed you to live long enough. Where is the child? It does not really matter if you tell me or not now, I can still find her later and take her from you then, but I would prefer that you save me the work.”

Ichabod lifted the pistol and aimed it at Orion’s head. The Fallen creature’s eyes narrowed and he said, “You would never make the shot. That weapon is far too unwieldly for precision shooting and—”

The side of Orion’s head exploded into crimson mist and Abbie gasped and fell away from him. Ichabod caught her before she could tumble over the side and then hurried her down the stairs and away. The creature was not dead yet, but then Miss Jenny was pumping the body full of rock salt while Agent Reynolds called for his men hiding in the bushes to get off their asses and get the men on the plane. Ichabod barely heard former Captain Irving quip through the earpiece from his vantage point on another SUV hidden in the treeline, _“I’m told that the position of godfather is still open. I think this well qualifies me for it, don’t you?”_

Ichabod did not stop walking with Abbie until they were back at her jeep and then he turned her around, looked her over and pulled her into his arms. She squeaked, surprised, and he buried his face into her hair, blood spatter and brain matter painting his face red, and said, “Abbie….”

She let him hold her like this for a few minutes and then she pushed at him, complaining, “Crane…Crane, you’re going to have to let me go. I need to breathe, Crane.”

He released her but then took her face in his hands and after a second’s hesitation, leaned in and kissed her.

Abbie grasped at his hands for a moment, then slid her own up around his neck and kissed him back. He had no memory of kissing her the very first time, all those months ago, when this whole thing began. Sure, Pandora had shown him what had happened, but it was no substitute for this, the softness of Abbie’s mouth, the warmth of her tongue, the taste of her. He tried to commit them all to memory in that moment and for the first time his memory failed him. No number of kisses after this would be enough to contain this. No feeling would ever be able to match this until next their lips touched. He poured everything he had into it, his relief that she was alright, joy that it was over, hope that she would be amenable to letting him kiss her in future, and last and most important, the love that he held in his heart for her and desperately wanted her to feel.

Someone cleared their throat. Someone else giggled and Abbie pulled away from him, reluctantly, he noticed and they both turned to find the others looking at them. Then Abbie rolled her eyes and said, “What, you think Charlotte was dropped off by the stork?”

Jenny smirked and replied, “No, I just didn’t realise that you guys had plans for a sibling.”

At that Abbie released Ichabod entirely and said, “What’s the situation on board?”

Agent Reynolds replied, “Everyone’s accounted for and your guy is down. Disintegrated and blew away like dust in the wind. Do they all do that?”

“No, but it sure is convenient for disposal,” said Abbie.

Agent Reynolds lifted an eyebrow at this and then said, “On second thought, I don’t want to know. Are you sure this is the guy?”

Abbie glanced at Ichabod and said, “It has to be. He told me how he did it.” Ichabod looked away from her. He could not look at her. They had all heard it anyway.

Agent Reynolds said, “Alright, then you guys should get out of here. I know you want to see your girl again.”

“Definitely,” said Abbie. “Thank you for doing this.”

Agent Reynolds shook his head and said, “Don’t mention it. You’re my best agent. No way in hell I was going to sit around and let some two-bit Fallen wannabe Anti-Christ get to you and your family. Now go, kid must be wondering where you guys are.”

Abbie insisted on going over and hugging the man anyway, then gave her sister and Joe a hug too and got back into her SUV. Ichabod took up the discarded car seat and doll and put it into the backseat before hopping into the front passenger. Abbie grabbed the collar of his jacket, unnecessary given that there was a mike in her own and said, “Thank you Captain, you can indeed be godfather.”

A moment later, Ichabod heard Irving chuckling in his earpiece. Then Abbie started the vehicle and drove them away.

Miss Zoe met them at her front door with Lottie already dressed and ready to go. Ichabod watched Abbie take the baby back with a sweet smile and a whispered “Thank you” to Miss Zoe. Even though Miss Zoe had not known exactly why the two had dropped the child off earlier, she had still taken her in and cared for her. Miss Zoe was too good and Ichabod regretted that he had to break her heart all over again.

Abbie went back to the car to put Lottie in and Ichabod turned to Miss Zoe. She beat him to it, saying, “Don’t bother. It was only a matter of time. You and I both knew that the day they found her.”

Ichabod insisted on saying what he had to. “Miss Zoe, I must apologise again for my reprehensible actions. I behaved dishonourably to you who had treated me with kindness from the very beginning. I hope that in time that you will find it in your heart to forgive me. I…I ask only one thing: please, do not blame Abigail. She is the last person who wanted to hurt you.”

Miss Zoe put her hand up and Ichabod fell silent. Then she smiled and said, “I am hurt still, but I forgave you a long time ago. I would not have helped you if I had not. Now please, I think you should take your family home.”

Ichabod nodded at this and bowed. Miss Zoe gave a small, sad sigh and then he straightened, turned and walked out of the house to join Abbie in the car. She did not ask him what had kept him but started the car at once and drove them home.

Hours later, as they lay in bed together, Lottie playing with her feet between them, shifting about in a valiant effort to roll onto her stomach, Ichabod said, “Our troubles are far from over. Pandora is still at her work even if she helped us this time.”

Abbie put her hand over Lottie’s face and the child stopped squirming and reached for her mother’s fingers. Then Abbie said, “I know. She just did not want the competition and for some reason could not stop him herself. We should look into that. See if something about his being an angel kept her at bay.”

Ichabod nodded and then reached over to trace a hand alongside Abbie’s face. She did not look away from the child but smiled and said, “This…this is okay. I mean, this was terrifying, he could have done so many more horrible things to us, but we got Charlotte. It was not all bad.”

Ichabod said, “I am sorry that this happened to you.”

Abbie shook her head and said, “No, you tried to do the right thing as soon as you realised what was going on. This happened to the both of us.”

Ichabod moved his hand from Abbie’s face to join hers over Charlotte. Then she surprised him by intertwining their fingers and saying, “Hey, we’re in this together. Remember?”  
He looked at their joined hands for a moment, then at Charlotte, and finally Abbie and said, “Yes, together. Always.”


End file.
